Page 83 of False Flag

She offered him the cup, but he shook his head. “I’d kind of love to get shit-faced. Not something I do anymore, but for Lloyd, it would be appropriate. But it’s not safe for me to do that. Not here.”

“When this is all over and we’re back home,” she promised.

He nodded. “You going to let me take you out when this is over?” Then he shook his head. “What am I saying? Of course you’ll say yes. My brother just died, and you’re being kind. Forget I asked that now. I don’t want you to go out with me out of pity. I want it to be because I’m hot as fuck and sing like an angel.”

“That’s not why I want to go out with you, though.”

“Okay. Never mind. I’ll take pity.”

She leaned toward him and cupped his face between her palms. She brushed her lips over his. A chaste kiss that was in no way platonic. She held his gaze. “I want to go out with you because I like you, Jacob.”

He didn’t smile. His eyes burned into hers. “I like you too, Anastacia.”

She kissed him again with just a hint more passion, then released him. “We should head back. It’s getting dark and twilight is long here, but our walk is longer.”

Scotch, quaich, and blanket were returned to the backpack, which he slung over his shoulder. He took her hand in his, threading his fingers between hers. Hand in hand, they set off on a long, silent walk to their hotel.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Again, they slept in the same bed. Jake was drained of tears at last, and this time, he simply enjoyed the comfort of not being alone. Sleep remained fitful. He never drifted into a deep sleep, but that was to be expected when the heavy weight of grief shifted and anger settled in. His dreams were filled with frustration, loss, and never-ending rage.

First, he lost his brother when he’d been radicalized online. Then Lloyd had been taken from him, just as Jake had embarked on a mission to bring him back from the cult that had sucked his brother in.

Awake at least an hour before dawn, tension coiled through him. He closed his eyes, breathed deep. He needed to sleep a bit more if he was going to get through the day. As a SEAL, he could deal with sleep deprivation, but with the added intensity of grief, he wouldn’t be on his game. Could be a danger and not the protector Staci needed.

She slept beside him. An anchor in his emotionally shifting world. He listened to her breathing, matched his rhythm to hers. He went through all the mental and breathing exercises he employed on a mission.

This was also a mission. An extremely personal one, but a mission just the same. He needed to compartmentalize. Here, now, he was safe. Staci was safe. Moving forward, they might not have this peace. He cleared his mind as best he could and commanded his body to sleep.

The sun was high in the sky the next time he opened his eyes. His body was drenched in sweat. For the first time in days—weeks?—he was sleep saturated. He’d dropped into a sleep so deep his brain was clouded.

He was used to waking up alert—ready to defend or fight. But in the wee hours, he’d forced himself to let his guard down. The result was this bleary, hazy state in which he rolled over to face the most amazing woman in the world lying in bed beside him. Her gaze ran over him with concern.

He said the first thing that came to his mind. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Her eyes widened with alarm.

Crap. He’d scared her. “Uh. Sorry. Probably shouldn’t have said that out loud.”

“It’s not real. I’m just the person who’s here.”

“If Dahlia were here, I wouldn’t have said it to her. I’m not interested in her.”

“So what you’re feeling is lust, then.”

He should let it go, since he never should have said the words to begin with, but now that he’d laid it out there, he wouldn’t walk it back. Nor would he let her do that for him. “While I absolutely want to have sex with you again at some point, lust is the last thing I’ve felt these last few days.”

He looked down at his nonexistent erection. “What I wouldn’t give to feel lust right now. The most beautiful woman in the world is in my bed. But mentally, I’m not there, and I don’t think you are either. Still, these last few days of getting to know you… When I get my libido back, it’s going to be better than it was in the cabin at Anderson Lake—which was the best sex I’ve ever had. Because now it’s so much more than that wild, intense attraction we had then. Now I know how amazing you are. Driven. Empathetic. Determined. Willing to risk everything to bring down powerful men to prevent them from doing more harm. Funny. Caring. Smart. Strong. And sexy as fuck. You can’t sing, but I can overlook that.”

A tear slid down her cheek. “I know you mean what you’re saying right now, but I won’t hold you to it later. It could just be grief, or an escape from grief.”

“There’s no escaping my grief. But being with you gives me hope that I can find a way to live with it.” He swiped away her tear with his thumb. “Hope we can build something together.”

He ran his thumb over her bottom lip, feeling the slightest stir of lust as he remembered how it felt to have her mouth on him.

“When Rand and I were playing pool, he said to me that the day he met Kira, he knew she was the one. I can’t claim that. The first time we met, I saw only the surface. You were beautiful, but I hadn’t really met you. But that day, when Rand and I were playing pool, I was pretty certain I was a goner. I understood what Rand meant because I was halfway there at that point. I guess I have a thing for women who lure me into tight spaces so they can shoot me.”

He leaned forward and kissed her. Not chaste like last night, but not deep either. A gentle meeting of tongues that was quickly over. He pressed his forehead to hers. “No need to respond now. I put my feelings out there when I probably shouldn’t have. But regardless of what you think, this is real for me, Anastacia.”